


Reflection

by foreignobjecticus



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen, Grieving, Religion, Victorian!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:09:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29798595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreignobjecticus/pseuds/foreignobjecticus
Summary: Gan's last moments of freedom.
Relationships: Gan/Gan's woman
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by chrysopoetical's absolutely _beautiful_ Victorian!AU Blake's 7 series picture - Gan [**Please go check out the full collection of pictures - they are so cleverly themed and utterly amazing.**](https://acitymadeofsong.tumblr.com/post/637912748358090752/somebody-requested-a-masterpost-at-some-point-so) Linked with permission.  
> Also on [**AO3**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29904201/chapters/73598046).

They were coming. It was only a matter of time. There had been witnesses, he knew. His brother had held the rest of the troopers back with the other men – they hadn’t followed him, but that didn’t matter. Soon the Federation would find him, arrest him, drag him through the streets with the blood still on his hands and execute him for his crime. 

In the distance, troopers were shouting, combing the town, terrorising the people and turning the houses of his friends and family upside down. They’d reach the church eventually, and the same reverence that kept him safe from being turned out by the locals wouldn’t save him from the Federation guards. They didn’t recognise Sanctuary, and he couldn’t stay forever. 

Gan stood by the foot of the altar and squared his shoulders, gazing up into the face of the Saint in the single stained-glass window. 

“Saint Roch, will you still save me now?” his voice echoed in the empty church until it reached back around and answered him in that same circular way faith always had. _Save me now_. 

Gan closed his eyes, seeing before him and for the first time only darkness. Rosa was gone, and his heart began to bleed when fear and fury turned to sorrow in the face of reflection of what he’d done. Mortal sin. He shook, a tremor that made him shiver, revulsion souring his stomach and making him sick inside. Underneath his eyelids, hot tears stung and they welled over his cheeks unchecked. 

The sunlight behind the stained-glass moved as time passed the stroke of twelve, and above him, the church tower bell tolled solemnly. Gan opened his eyes, and the colours that bathed his face in light danced before him, blinding him in sweet purples and blues that cooled the last flames of hatred within his soul. Particles of dust twirled in the air around him, graceful and calm while the shouts of guards outside rent the air as they marched ever closer. 

“It was in anger,” he confessed, bared his soul to the hollow heart of God and the eyes that had stared through him since childhood. A lifetime of obedience, of faith. And in one moment, it had all come crashing down. 

The weight of the warm chain around his neck felt suddenly heavy, and his chest heaved against it. Pulling it from his shirt, Gan looked down at the locket and opened it slowly, thumbs blunt against the worn gold gone soft beneath his touch. He smiled, and the face of his love smiled back. 

“You’ll take care of her?” he asked the light, tear stained face turned upwards once more. The sun glinted again, moved with the turning of the Earth, and when it reached the altar, caught the rim of the silver chalice and rolled into the cup. Light split, and the fractals of colour that reflected from its depths lit a blaze of rainbow light like jewels across the vaulted ceiling. 

Let it never be said that beauty cannot be found even in the cruellest of worlds. He had found Rosa, and for those days his life had been like a dream he thought he’d never wake from. 

The sunlight moved again, and the visions were gone. 

Gan pressed his locket closed and kissed it, chain wound tight around his fist. Stepping across to the pulpit, he whispered a silent prayer and laid Rosa by the book of their God where their Father would find it. 

There would be no wedding in the spring, but with hope, they would lay side by side forever.


End file.
